


40 Minutes Left

by Darth_Cannizard



Category: Joyeux Noël | Merry Christmas (2005)
Genre: Christmas Truce of 1914, Horstebert, M/M, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26900053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darth_Cannizard/pseuds/Darth_Cannizard
Summary: He remembers what his father once said to him: This is high treason, son, but you can't execute 200 soldiers for this offence. His father was right, because executing 200 will be difficult, but executing one soldier is possible.
Relationships: Lt Audebert/Lt Horstmayer (Joyeux Noël)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	40 Minutes Left

He remembers what his father once said to him: _This is high treason, son, but you can't execute 200 soldiers for this offence._ His father was right, because executing 200 will be difficult, but executing one soldier is possible.  
  
Camille Audebert has these thoughts right now. He has been ordered back to the front. The constellation is the same as 1 year ago in Christmas 1914 and Horstmayer’s company is sitting in the trench opposite them.

He has just received a letter informing him that after long considerations he had been sentenced to death for high treason. The time named in the letter is in 40 minutes. Unfortunately the messenger, an officer who will probably give him the _coup de grace_ , did not manage to deliver the letter any faster.  
  
Camille finds it difficult to breathe. He sits down at the table in his dugout and tries to write a letter to his wife and son. And can't think clearly. A tornado of thoughts and images rages in his head.  
  
He would really like to see Karl again. Would like to embrace him. Press a soft kiss to his sweet lips. _And now he will watch me die from a distance, dishonored as I am._

*

“What is happening over there?” asks Horstmayer the soldier who is currently standing guard and observing the strange events in the french trench with binoculars.  
  
"I'm not sure, Herr Oberleutnant," says the soldier, handing him the binoculars, "see for yourself. First a new officer appeared and now they are gathering in the forest behind the trench."

Horstmayer looks himself and after a while he knows what he is seeing - the preparation for an execution. But who is the unfortunate soul? He gets the answer a few moments later. Karl suddenly can't breathe anymore. One wild and desperate thought chases the next.  
  
And then.  
  
"Hadn't we received a letter from the Headquarters a few days ago stating we could bring about one or the other skirmish and act at our own discretion?"  
  
"Yes, Herr Oberleutnant, I read this very letter to you because you were busy shaving," Jörg says to him.

“We're attacking,” says Horstmayer. "Ready your weapons and ..."  
  
“All of a sudden ?!” several soldiers cry at once.  
  
"Yes," says Karl and looks at the clock. An execution doesn't usually happen at an uneven time, and should the French act logically, like they always do, they have 25 minutes left to save Camille by attacking the French.

*

He is so sorry. About everything. All the lost opportunities. All the moments when he could have acted differently.  
  
“Any last words?” asks the new officer, who stands before him holding the blindfold while a line of men chosen for the squad has formed behind him.  
  
_So many_ , thinks Camille, _that I am not allowed to say. So many that I can't even formulate._ So he just shakes his head.  
  
Audebert’s hands are bound behind his back. He can see Ponchel in the background, tears running down his cheeks. His men endured so much and now they have to go through this. He is very sorry that he has to leave them alone and in the hands of this bastard of an officer following in his steps. What will their fate be without him?

*

Horstmayer has never witnessed such an attack. Not a single rifle is fired on the enemy's side. The Germans just walk through the no man's land, down into the french trench, with the French just looking away and then back up and into the forest. The new officer is personally shot by Horstmayer and Audebert is simply captured without him fighting back or anyone intervening. Then they go back to the german trench on the same route.

*

And in the deadly silence before the shots are fired, Camille suddenly hears Horstmayer’s voice, loud and clear like the voice of an apocalyptic angel:

Zum Angriff!

Vorwärts, Männer! and

Gott mit uns!

A shot grazes his left arm and he sways, blind and helpless as he is now. And then Karl is there and supports him. "I have you," he whispers. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you," and he takes off the blindfold.  
  
Camille watches calmly as his lover points the pistol at the new officer trying to run for his life.

  
  
He watches how he aims.

  
  
Shoots.

  
  
Hits the target.

**

He's standing in front of the firing squad. It’s so strange that the blindfold covering his eyes is transparent, so that he can see exactly who is about to shoot and kill him. He sees his beloved sister, who is preparing a long rifle, a few former school friends and the Kaiser himself.  
  
_I haven't done anything, I'm innocent_ \- he thinks. _I'm not a traitor, a deserter, or a murderer ..._  
  
The shots themselves come all of sudden and the pain is excruciating.

  
  
  
And he wakes up drenched in sweat, his heart hammering wildly. He sits up slowly. The familiar bedroom around him makes him realize that this was just another nightmare.

“Did you have one of your nightmares again?” his lover asks him in French.  
  
"I'm sorry that I woke you up," murmurs Horstmayer.  
  
"Come here," says Camille and holds out his arms to him. Karl hugs him tightly, lays his head on his shoulder, his arm around his middle. Camille covers them both with the duvet and kisses him gently on the forehead.  
  
"Beloved, the war ended 10 years ago," he whispers.  
  
A clear and gray winter morning on a saturday is dawning outside. The clock on the town house tolls 7 times.  
  
_For us the war will never end_ , thinks Horstmayer, _but at least we have each other_ , and then he dozes off cocooned in his lover’s embrace.


End file.
